When you live and work on a farm, boots are an essential tool in your daily life. These are Rodney's boots, they are somewhere around 2 years old now. If they could talk, what a story they could tell. They have seen a couple of hay seasons, and the winters that followed. They have trampled through cold mud, and hot dry dust, trodden through warm green pastures and stalked through woods on dry leaves. They have walked hundreds of miles through chicken litter, driven many miles on tractors and stepped in their share of cow pies. They have been hot, cold, wet and dry... and now, they are languishing. When I was observing these pitiful boots a few weeks ago, I felt angry. Angry that our life's occupation wouldn't allow us to freely buy a new pair of boots. I felt that life was unfair and that the hard work that went into creating such a weathered boot wasn't enough to allow for a new pair. How ironic.
After some prayer and consideration, God changed my mind about this. I began to feel blessed that the feet that fill these boots belong to a man that loves me, that they find their way home to me every evening when the day is done. I started to cherish the fact that we live in such a way that the condition of our shoes doesn't determine the condition of our hearts. The love that we feel for each other and the dedication we have to our jobs and our way of life, far outweigh what our apparel may look like. Rodney will soon have a very well deserved new pair of boots and I feel blessed to have a husband that will work as hard as he does and not even complain about the shoes on his feet.